


The Fourteenth Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Series: The Senad Sentinel Tidbits Files by Many and Varied [14]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Senslash Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	The Fourteenth Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

## The Fourteenth Sentinel Tidbits File

by Many and varied

Author's disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, these tidbits aren't mine.  
Anyone who sues over this stuff, needs their head examined.  


Rating: the whole range  
Pairings: J/B (mostly!) 

* * *

Tidbit #1

<< Minotaur theorizes on the ability of a certain actor/character to steal the gupcake out from under the Big Guy... >>

PW: "Whatever he does for you, I can do more...and better." 

Gup: "Oh man, you don't know what he does to...I mean _for_ me." 

PW (on a couch, in his patented sprawl): "Tell me. Better yet, show me..." 

BG (growling): "Touch him, and die." 

<< Hmmm, how about as another Guide? Trying to get BG... >>

PW (to BG): "I'll bet he doesn't do _this_ for you. Or _this_?" 

BG: (moan) 

<< Maybe he could be the baddie, and capture Jim for some reason (well, _we_ know why he would, but PetFly would have to think up something for gen consumption). Picture, if you will:  >>

An empty house, abandoned, leaves and other detrius pile the corners of the basement. James Ellison, blindfolded, hands cuffed above his head to a beam, his tank top torn & dirty. PW prowls slowly in a circle around him, eyeing his prisoner speculatively. 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #2

Re: Seeing the Big Guy in bondage... 

Oh yeah... The Big Guy lies spreadeagle, bound to the four corners of the bed, his muscles tensed in bold relief as he anticipates the next... touch. Blair stands over him, dressed only in a few strategically placed strips of leather. In his hand, a lit candle. A single drop of molten wax hangs, poised to join the trail that leads over the sculpted chest toward the groin... 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #3

How 'bout this one: 

Blair kneels, bound hand to ankle, face upturned, mouth open, waiting. A single lock of auburn hair falls over his blindfolded eyes. Above him stands his lover, muscles outlined by the flicker of the roaring fireplace. He is reaching down to stroke the proffered cheek, a look of mingled awe and lust suffusing his features. 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #4

The Sentinel is bent over the kitchen table, dinner dishes scattered and overturned around him. His hands are bound behind his back with a dishtowel, his pants and boxers tangled around his ankles. Blair stands to the side, one hand between his shoulder blades to hold him down, the other held high. Jim's neck is craned back, his eyes wide and feral with sudden shocked passion. A perfect firey handprint stands out against the alabaster mound of his ass. 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #5

Blair sits naked on a plain wooden chair, his ankles secured to its legs, his hands cuffed behind him. His head is thrown back, baring his collared throat. Jim kneels before him, supplicant, the tip of his tongue protruding slightly in concentration. The razor in his hand rock steady as he shaves carefully around the steel nipple ring. 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #6

A darkened alley, a chain link fence. The metal bites into Blair's cheek, his wrists held tight above his head in his partner's massive hand. His pants dangle at his knees, and raw need blazes on his face as Jim enters him roughly from behind. 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #7

A trail of discarded clothes leads from the door to the couch, where Blair sits with a weighty tome in his lap. His glasses have slipped to the end of his nose and he peers over them at the figure before him. Naked, Jim is crouched at his feet, arms outstretched, palms upturned, wrists touching but as yet unbound. An offering, a plea. 

minotaur  
(who's having _way_ too much fun to stop) 

* * *

Tidbit #8

In an empty garage a Harley sits, gleaming chrome, dark leather. The Sentinel straddles the seat, black chaps baring the perfect globes of his ass, hands chained to the handlebars. He peers over his shoulder at his young lover, clad only in a motorcycle jacket. Blair holds a can of motor oil in his hand as he prepares to mount his steed. 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #9

Private Ellison stands at parade rest, his rampant erection jutting from the open fly of his jungle fatigues, patiently awaiting his commander's next order. 

minotaur  
(who wishes at this time to enter a plea of temporary insanity) 

* * *

Tidbit #10

A dusty pickup truck pulled to the side of a country lane. Jim sprawls on a bale of hay in the truck bed, cowboy boots & hat, nothing else, grinning widely around a piece of straw. Blair stands between his outstretched legs. Barechested, overalls puddled around his ankles, a length of rope dangles from his hand. Reaching out, he gently strokes his lover's powerful thigh. 

minotaur  
(who _really_ needs to go to bed) 

* * *

Tidbit #11

A dim and drafty warehouse. A packing pallet leans against a crumbling brick wall. From the broken skylight a single dusty beam of sun illuminates the alabaster planes of Jim's body. Rough ropes bind him, wrists and ankles, to the pallet, his nipples tight and peaked. From the shadows, Blair approaches his lover, a predatory grin spreads across his face. 

minotaur  
(Just a little something to help get your day started off right.) 

* * *

Tidbit #12

A cool forest, a still pond, a weather-beaten wooden raft floats tethered in its center. Blair dozes face up, bare body sun baked, auburn curls a damp halo about his head. Jim lies face down next to him, head pillowed on his folded arms, eyes half open to watch his sleeping Guide. Drops of water, slowly drying in the heat, bead his muscular back. Only their feet touch. 

minotaur  
(who's starting to scare himself) 

* * *

Tidbit #13

A long stretch of deserted beach, trapped remnants of the tide reflecting the firey fingers of the sunset. Blair stands at the land's edge, a retreating wave curling past his bare toes. His gaze is fixed upon the far horizon, a shadow of wistful longing darkening his eyes. Jim stands close behind him, arms wrapped around the smaller man, chin resting in his curls, sheltering his lover from the cool breeze which springs up at day's ending. 

minotaur  
(who's supposed to be doing his laundry) 

* * *

Tidbit #14

An abandoned building, crumbling walls, rubble strewn corners. Behind a fallen door, Blair hides, his expression frightened, but his eyes glow with delighted mischeif. Jim stands, outlined in feeble moonlight from a broken window. His head thrown back, his eyes half mast, his nostrils wide. The hunter has scented his prey. 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #15

A sultry night, the air hot and stifling, unmoved by the fans that crowd the loft. Blair reclines on the couch, rivulets of sweat plastering the hair to his chest. Jim crouches beside him, drawing a careful line down his throat with an ice cube. 

minotaur 

* * *

Tidbit #16

Miriad candlelight shimmers on the plush, black sheepskin covering the bed. Jim's chest heaves, gasping for breath. His muscles writhe beneath damp skin. Hopelessly straining at the scarves binding him to the bed. Blair steps from the shadows, his hair soft and unbound. From the torn, black, fishnet tanktop (loose and falling from one shoulder), to the snug, jet leather jeans, he embodies sweet, dark, sensual attraction. Jim blinks, stunned and fascinated. 

Slowly, dream-like, Blair advances on his pet. He holds up the glistening vibrator as he reaches out to caress one straining bicep. 

"Round two," whispers the smiling demon. 

\--  
Love, Pat 

* * *

Tidbit #17

His head hurt, his feet hurt, and everything in the middle hurt. It had not been a particularly good day in academia. He'd lost his notes (again), the laptop had eaten his latest research (again), he'd sat through the dullest lecture he could ever have dreamed up in his worst nightmares (again) and his advisor was on his ass for dissertation chapters (again). There were times when he really wondered what the hell he was doing still in school. He wanted to run away. Again. 

Blair swore under his breath as he stared at the locked door. 

Keyless again. 

Before he could actually sink to the low of dropping his backpack in the middle of the hallway and bawling like a howler monkey with its paw caught under a rock, the door swung open. 

Thank god for Jim. 

Now it dawned on him why he didn't run away. Because, for the first time in his life, he had something to run toward. The relief temporarily short-circuited his brain. 

He staggered into the room, tossed his pack one direction, his jacket the other, kicked his shoes off in a third. Before Jim could get the remonstrance on the tip of his tongue spat out past his lips, Blair made a bee-line directly for his partner. Climbing straight up those wide spread, tree trunk legs, wrapping his own legs around that trim waist, he curled into Jim, caught the bigger man's head in his hands and did his very best to inhale every atom of air from Jim's lungs. 

Didn't know you could get high on shared oxygen. 

By the time he crawled back out of Jim's mouth, the "neatness is next to godliness" lecture was history, drowned in a rising tide of pure lust tempered by absolute shock glazing the crystal blue eyes staring into his. Blair unwound his legs, slid down to the ground, settled unsteadily at Jim's feet and looked up at him. 

"So. Jim." Now was as good a time as any. "How do you feel about bisexuality and expanded definitions of friendship?" Bren 

* * *

Tidbit #18

<< Okay, quick obsenad (dedicated to listmom) >>

"Blair, what am I doing wrong?" 

Blair looked up from his computer, and quickly shut it down. Jim had a loop of yarn feeding through his knitting, barely started. "Don't worry." He took the needles from Jim and sat on an edge of the chair supporting the cast-ensconced leg. He stuck out his hand and snipped the offending thread with the offered scissors. "There a crochet hook in the bag?" 

Jim found the length of pink metal. "I'm not sure why you started me with knitting." 

"Self-defense. I don't want the loft filled with dollies." He deftly wove the dangling strand along the back of the work. Done, Blair placed the needles back in Jim's hands. "You're doing very well, setback included." 

"Protect the tribe, do handicrafts." 

"Actually, that's pretty interesting. The even tension, small stitches wouldn't be a problem..." 

"Hold that thought. This is not part of my hard-ass image." 

"But that apron is?" He laughed as Jim wanted to swat him and dislodged the balls of yarn. "Sorry. But don't you think Ann in payroll has told all the support personel by now?" 

"What, that the neo-hippy observer borrowed some equipment?" 

"Who, me? Well, yeah I asked, but I told her they were for you." 

"And you are teaching me." 

"Don't think I mentioned that." He smiled as the larger man tried to escape his seat. 

Happy Birthday, list-mom! 

Cynara 

* * *

Tidbit #19

ObSenad: 

Jim walked in the door, already smiling with curiosity. "What's cookin', Chief?" 

"You smelled it, didn't you? Man, it is imPOSsible to keep a secret from a Sentinel; you do know it's unfair, don't you?" 

"Yeah, but I manage to sleep at night...." 

"Usually...." Blair leered. 

"Yeah, well," Jim said, blushing just a bit. "So, what's cooking?" 

"Triple Chocolate Chip cookies!" 

"Oh boy. And what brought this on?" 

"It's a good cause; Chrissy's daughter's school is selling them to raise money for field trips -- and you KNOW how anthropologists are about field trips." Blair grinned as he brought Jim a cookie, preceded by a welcome home kiss. 

"Mmmm, they're good," Jim admitted, still holding his unbitten cookie. "Lemme get another taste." He pulled Blair closer, and kissed him again..... 

:) 

Ann 

* * *

Tidbit #20

<< fulfilling the request for a nice, humorous story concerning Blair or Jim working on their income taxes... >>

"Now calm down, Jim, just _calm down_ \--" 

"Chief, I can't, I can't do this--" 

"You can do this, you've done this before. Now just close your eyes, do your breathing. That's it...in...out... You're safe. You're in a safe place, Jim, nothing bad's gonna happen to you. Now you're at the filing cabinet, you're opening the second drawer, you're looking down the rows of files, you pull out the one labeled '1997'. Still with me?" 

"...yeah, Chief. I'm still here..." 

"Good. Good. You're opening the file. There's a paper on top of the stack. There's a number to the right of line 12. Can you read the number?" 

"It's a...it, it, it's a 2." 

"You're sure?" 

"Yeah, Chief. It's a 2." 

Blair closed his laptop with a _thunk_ so loud that Jim snapped out of his reverie and stared at his Guide. 

Blair pulled off his glasses and glared at the stunned Ellison. His words came out slow, full of fury. 

"You listed me as a _dependent_?!" 

Jane M. 

* * *

Tidbit #21

Very Short ObSenad (blame this on that lovely pic of Jim on the back of the Sen CD): 

Only the Sentinel's eyes move, flickering in the dying firelight. His arms are bare, gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat. Breathing evenly, his Guide lies sleeping against the protection of his chest. He holds one sleek curl of hair twined around his finger, rubbing the silk of it with his thumb. The nighttime creatures of the rainforest chirrup quietly to each other overhead. He smiles. 

the lady of shalott 

* * *

Tidbit #22

Death Is Not an Option 

"You can't ask that!" Jim's objection was loud in the truck. 

Blair grinned openly. "Yes I can. I can choose anyone I want." His words were balanced indignation; carefully, but not completely, hiding his pleasure at his partner's unease. But as he watched Jim's hands tighten on the steering wheel, he couldn't resist a further tweak. "And remember, the name of the game is "'Death Is Not an Option'." 

Blair was having a wonderful time. Long highway trips were nothing he enjoyed, but they did give a chance to put your Sentinel between a rock and a hard place. He glanced at Jim, inwardly smirking as he saw disgust and chagrin alternate across the flat planes of his face. Yes, it was a great game for tormenting your friends; forcing them to choose which of the odious pair you named that they'd prefer to sleep with. Not that they'd prefer either of them, of course, for the choice was supposed to be the lesser of two evils. 

He had begun by lobbing Jim a few soft ones, easy choices designed to make him laugh in disgust. And Jim had quickly caught on, surprising Blair with his ability to rapidly pick women that Blair couldn't help but find repulsive. Tammy Faye Baker or Nancy Reagan? The man was simply evil. Then, in the middle of their teasing banter, Blair began to sense that something was coming. 

It was just a vague feeling at first, a suspicion of something dangerous but irresistible. He tried not to think about it, waiting for it to spring on him as it inevitably would. He shied away, focusing on Jim's talk -- and then, suddenly, he knew what he had to ask. It was too perfect _not_ to. 

Again he glanced at Jim, unable to fight against the pull of him. [A blank mask] he thought [so controlled, so unforgiving.] He fought to keep still on the bench seat as fear unexpectedly thrashed in his belly like a fist. 

[Stupid!] he berated himself. [You could barely answer Jim's question in your haste to ask yours -- why didn't you stop and _think_!] Even as he voiced that objection to himself, he knew the answer. [Because if you stopped to think, you wouldn't have done it.] He found himself looking at Jim's hands again, watching the skin tighten over the knuckles. Then suddenly they went loose, casually gripping the steering wheel in Jim's familiar habit. 

Blair's eyes darted to Jim's face before he could stop them. [He's chosen. Oh, God, he's chosen.] 

[And I don't want to know the answer.] 

Jim took his eyes from the road and stared mercilessly at Blair. The fist tightened in Blair's belly, making it difficult to breathe. 

"Blair, are you so sure that I'd pick Cassie," Jim laced her name with disgust, "just because she's female -- " 

Blair felt heat bloom across his cheeks. 

"Or did you just want to hear me pick _you_?" 

The End. 

(Yes, I said "The End." We can all entertain our own ideas of why Blair asked and how Jim answered.) 

Chaomath 

* * *

Tidbit #23

<< In the upcoming ep, Foreign Exchange, Megan says J & B would look like a gay couple if they go undercover together...so what will the characters' reactions be to that? >>

I can just see Simon sitting at his desk with cigar in hand, looking over at Jim. Jim, who happens to have his back to the filing cabinets by the window and one arm slung on top of then, looks over his shoulder into the Major Crimes bullpen and clenches his fist, giving a little cough. Blair, who is standing next to the offending woman, puts his hand to his chin, looks to the floor, then at Simon and his Sentinel with a cocky little grin on his face and says, 

"Your point being?" 

Rache M. 

* * *

Tidbit #24

Re: Jim strutting his stuff, with or without clothes! 

OBsenad 

"We have to go where?" Jim fairly squeaked at Simon, unable to believe his and Sandburg's latest assignment. 

"Ellison, you're my best detective and this could be our only chance to catch this killer," Simon replied, his tone brooking no further disagreement from the detective. 

"Hey man, I think this is like totally cool!" Blair chimed in happily. Simon and Jim both looked at the younger man. "Hey, it's not what you're thinking, guys! It'll be cool to study this particular sub-culture," Blair finished. 

"Simon, please don't--" Jim started. 

"You're doing it, Ellison, and that's an order! End. Of. Discussion." Simon said. 

Jim glared at his Captain then turned and strode out of the room, Blair following quickly behind him. 

Blair kept waiting for Jim to say something, anything, but from the time they left Simon's office until the time they arrived back at the loft 20 minutes later, Jim was silent. As he stopped the truck, he turned and looked at Blair, "It really won't bother you going undercover on this one?" 

"Hell, no, Jim!" Blair answered as the two men climbed out of the truck. 

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised--a nudist colony would be your idea of a great time, wouldn't it? All those naked women running around. That's why you're so excited by this assignment, isn't it Chief?" Jim asked, watching as his partner headed for the door. 

Blair turned around and gave Jim a most provocatively sensual look, "Oh, no, Jim. I'm looking forward to this because I'll finally get to see you naked," he said, before running quickly into the building. 

Jim stood by the truck, immobilised by his partner's words... 

Stacy 

* * *

Tidbit #25

ObSenad 

"It's never going to end." 

"What isn't?" 

"These hoops I have to jump through. It's like I'm some sort of show dog." 

"What kind of dog?" Jim got that mischevious look he sometimes got that made it clear he'd decided that the solution to Blair's school problem was sex. 

Blair groaned. 

"C'mon, Chief. It can't be that bad. What do you have to do again?" 

"You wouldn't understand. No one who's not in school understands." 

"Try me." Still with that look, this time supplemented by a suggestive shake of the hips. Blair found himself beginning to give in. The choices seemed to be getting clearer. Spend the rest of the night trying to work his way through the pile of books at his feet or spend the rest of the night working his way through Jim. 

The hell with it. Life was too short to be a performing poodle. 

Miriam  
(who just passed her doctoral exams -- written and oral!!) 

* * *

Tidbit #26

Re: reading the names wrong... 

Jim Ellison walked into the loft, all of his senses alert. He had been listening to the mutterings of his Guide since he had gotten out of the truck. The way Blair was carrying on, there must be something extremely wrong. Cautiously, he opened the door to the loft, his eyes darting first one way and then the other, looking for danger. However, all he could see was his young lover seated at the table, his eyes glued to his laptop, carrying on a one-way conversation with himself. 

"How could you say that to me? Where in the Hell do you get off, Pat? I mean, you're my friend. I thought I knew you. But *Noooo,* you have to go and bring _that_ up. I didn't even know that you knew about that. Gawd, you think you know a person, and then they just up and...." 

"Uh, Chief? Everything all right?" 

"No, Jim. Everything's _not_ all right. This friend of mine just brought up something that really pushes all of my buttons...the wrong way. I mean, I thought she was my friend, but she's going on and on about this." 

The larger man had come up to stand behind his lover; looking over the beloved shoulder of his soulmate, he read the message that had Blair complaining to all and sundry. 

"Hmmm. Chief? That message you're reading? It's from Pam, not Pat." 

"From Pam?" Leaning forward, the young Guide looked at the message again. Settling down, he said, "From Pam. Oh. That's all right, then." And he went on reading his mail. 

Cynthia 

* * *

Tidbit #27

Re: when certain list threads get to be too much... 

WARNING: Contains general total sillyness, some violence, and yes, CONTAINS A DEATH, but not in the "classical" sense. Remember, things are not always what they seem. You'll know what I mean in the end (our boys are gonna live quite a long time, if I have anything to say about it!) 

Jim looked menacingly around the room as he paced. His darkening eyes focused on the object that was causing him - causing everyone deepening heartache and pain. It threatened to cause his very extinction, unless he took swift, decisive action. He crossed from where he left Blair, and picked up an object that was next to the door. 

" _GRRRRRRRRRRR_ " He let out an animalistic growl, saliva pooling in his throat and causing the sentinel's voice to become even more menacing than anyone thought possible. The sound caught Blair off guard, and he looked up with a start. 

"Jim... NO! Come on man, just calm down. CALM DOWN!" Blair began to worry - there was a deep rage that began to overtake his lover. "Jim, put the bat down, and let's sit down and talk this out." 

Jim ignored the smaller man's comments, and continued to come forward with the bat, rolling it back and forth in his hands. Sweat was beading off his body, and Blair began to tremble. This was no longer the man he knew - this was a man possessed. 

"Come on Jim - we'll get through this. Just calm down." 

"No! We end this, NOW!" With that, Jim rushed where they had been sitting, swinging the bat down until it connected, a heavy "THWAP" sounding throughout the loft. 

With each strike of the bat, Blair cringed, crying out in agony. "No, Jim! How could you do this? Why, Jim? Why?" 

After several minutes of destruction, Jim felt released. He allowed himself to come back to reality. With a "thunk!" of a heavy object hitting the floor, he finally dropped the bat. It was done. His job was complete. Finally dead. 

"You just couldn't let it go, could you, big guy?" Blair asked. "It was just a simple thread that you could have ignored, not participated in, and just simply bypassed. Jeez, there _is_ a delete key, you know? And I _SHOWED_ you how to use your damn Eudora filters just last week!" 

Jim grunted, his rage now sated. "Sorry. Buy you another one." 

Blair laughed. "Damn straight you'll buy me another one. And this laptop will be top of the line, too." Blair joked easily - after all, Jim was still close to the bat. "And you're gonna have to get one of your own, as well... You want to read email? Get your own." 

Jim sighed heavily, finally coming out of his neanderthal-like speech patterns. "So, Chief. What time does CompUSA close again?" 

* * *

I'm _so_ sorry! I told you this was complete sillyness. It came to me as I was thinking of Jim and going, "Will this thing _ever_ die?!?!" And Jim, being the warrior being of my mind, promptly squashed it for me. :) 

squidgie 

* * *

Tidbit #28

ObSenad 

Jim rolled over and looked at the clock. 3:45?! Blair was still downstairs, fingers clacking away on the keyboard. 'So much for "I'll be up in a minute", huh, Mister Listpop.' He made his way downstairs. 

"Can't this stuff wait, Kissinger?" 

"Jim! Oh, man, you scared me! What time is it?" 

"Almost four am. So, you thinking about coming to bed for a couple hours?" 

"Four am?! Man, oh man, these guys are gonna get it! I tell ya, Jim, I'm unsubbing them all! They take what I say and twist it, the logic and rhetoric double-majors are tearing into this like cats in heat, and no matter what I decide, I'm gonna lose friends, I just know it! Why does it have to be so damned difficult?!" 

"It doesn't," Jim replied matter-of-factly. "Tell 'em you're going to bed, tell 'em you want everyone to think first and type second, and... tell 'em to go outside and talk to a real person face to face about it. I swear," he began muttering as he wandered into the kitchen, his stomach now waking up, "you people who live on these lists seem to have lost the knack of interacting the same way you do in real life. Stuff gets so blown out of proportion, and I can't tell you the number of lonely nights I've spent listening to you and your keyboard." 

Leaning into the cupboard, hoping to find cereal or something that would feel like breakfast but not require cooking, Jim jumped as fingers crept around his sides. 

"I know," Blair offered. "I know I tend to get too wrapped up in this e-mail stuff. Tell ya what -- once this calms down, I'll appoint an assistant listpop, and I'll take a full week off from e-mail. How's that?" 

Jim looked down at his lover doubtfully. "A week? And you do mean cold turkey, right? No 'Just to see if it's important', no 'But you like the stuff I get from the gay porn list', nothing?" 

Blair grinned at the example, reaching out to cup Jim's asscheeck. "If you can go without the gay porn, I can go without the gay porn. I swear." Leaning up, he kissed his lover on the mouth, then pulled back. "Toss a couple eggos in the toaster while I shut down, and we can eat in bed. Oh, and butter 'em really, really well, okay?" With a wink, he turned back to the table, leaving Jim hungry and horny. There was no way they were going to get back to sleep now.... 

Ann 

* * *

End Sentinel Tidbits file #14.

 


End file.
